


I Wear My Heart On My Sleeve For You

by Bennyhatter



Series: Shifter 'Verse [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Banter, Danny is a Shifter, First Kiss, Injured Steve, M/M, Overabundance of metaphors, SO MUCH BANTER, Shifters, These boys are so in love, They'll be okay, and kissing, tattooed character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12380895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: Steve just wants Danny to be happy, no matter what, and to stop denying himself what he needs.





	I Wear My Heart On My Sleeve For You

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo, another part. Seriously, you guys have all been so friggin amazing with the comments and the love so far; I'm completely blown away by all of it. You guys deserve all of the thanks and kudos, and you have my sincere gratitude for all of your support.
> 
> To those of you who guessed Danny's Shift as a pitbull, congrats! That is indeed what he is, although I had to add my own little flare to make him a special snowflake. He hasn't shifted in front of Steve yet, but we'll get there!
> 
> By which I mean I am an asshole and you don't get to see it yet, but hey, THEY KISS IN THIS ONE. So that's gotta count for something, right? Also I hope you like the ending, because it got super close to following that particular episode and I am having nerves about it.
> 
> ENJOY

Steve is at the computer table staring at the photos of their crime scene when Chin pushes open the door. He doesn't look up right away, too focused on absorbing every scrap of information he can like _this time_ it will help him figure this thing out any better than the last four times. They've been at it for days now and aside from scraping some skin from under the victim's nails, they've got _nothing_.

“That can't be good for your eyes, brah,” Chin comments mildly. Steve finally darts a glance up him and realizes that Kono is bounding around his heels. He smiles at the sight of her Shift, unable to help himself; he's never seen anyone switch between forms as frequently and easily as their rookie does. Kono has been able to win Five-0 more information than Steve could have ever imagined, simply because her Shift small enough to fit in places a human body can't, and she can wear a wire while doing it.

“Howzit, Chin? Kono?” He nods at them both and grins when Kono stands on her hind paws, her short front legs tucked against her chest. She chitters at him, looking pleased, before she drops back down and bounds toward her office. They'd learned the hard way to keep spare sets of clothes on hand for her. She might not tear through her clothes like some Shifters, but she still slips them easily out in the field, and fresh clothes are better than clothes that may have been accidentally shot or set on fire when their targets fought back.

Danny still insists that one was his fault. Steve insists that he had _no clue_ their suspect had a flamethrower, so how could he have warned Kono to shift somewhere better if he hadn't known?

“Any luck with the brother?” he asks, although he's not hoping for much. Remy Collins doesn't have a record – not so much as a speeding ticket – and he told them he was on Maui when his sister was murdered. He'd been like a wreck when they talked to him, his eyes bloodshot from misery and tears fresh on his cheeks as he'd stumbled through answering their questions. Steve hadn't had Danny at his side to tell him whether the kid was lying or not, but he didn't really need his partner's enhanced senses for this one. His instincts are perfectly fine on their own, even if he can't hear heartbeats.

Remy Collins isn't their killer. Chin’s slow head shake is just more proof of what he already knew.

“No, but he did mention that we should check out her boss, so I did,” the Asian man says as he moves past Steve toward the computer. His fingers fly over the electronic keys faster than anyone else in Five-0; the table has become like his baby. His very responsive, electronic child. “Apparently, he'd been trying to coerce Shannon into a relationship, but she refused. She told Remy about it when Jack Gordon started getting increasingly demanding. It looks like there were a few threatening phone calls and texts sent to her in the week leading up to her death.” He talks while he works, bringing up everything he's dug up on Shannon’s boss while Steve’s eyes devour every scrap of information that flashes across the screen.

“Sounds like Mister Gordon is a stand-up kind of guy,” he mutters sarcastically. “Have either of you heard more from Danny?” He tries to slide it in casually, like the absence of his partner by his side hasn't started to pang in an unpleasant way. Chin’s hands pause and he looks up, fixing Steve with a stare that says he _knows_ what his leader is doing.

“Said he was running late comin’ back from interviewing Shannon’s work friend. He mentioned he might swing by the crime scene and take another look around, too; see if he can find anything we could have missed.” His lieutenant stands and looks at one of their viewing screens, one finger drumming rhythmically against the edge of the table. “Maybe one of them knows a little more that will help us figure this out,” he mumbles almost to himself. “This level of violence seems a little like overkill just because she wouldn't have sex with her boss.”

Steve’s reply dies in his throat when the front door of Five-0’s slams open hard enough for the handle to put a dent in the drywall. Danny muscles his way into the room, snarling at the struggling man he's got cuffed when his slick shoes scrabble against the linoleum.

“I'm telling you, you've got the wrong guy!”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Danny barks as he drags the man further into the common area.

“What's going on, Danny?” Steve is already by his partner's side, reaching out to help him detain his unruly suspect. He's on alert, his lips curling back when the man kicks and scrambles and tries to wrench himself free. It isn't until Danny snarls again, low and _violent_ enough that the hair on Steve’s nape stands on end, that the guy freezes like a rabbit in front of a starving coyote.

“I found him sneaking around the crime scene,” Danny growls. Now that he's not being fought every step of the way, he drags the rumpled-looking businessman toward their interrogation room with quick, heavy steps. He looks beyond pissed, his jaw clenched and the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief. Even with Steve’s help, he's breathing so hard he's snorting like an enraged bull; his eyes are bleeding between blue and gold, the colors swirling together in constantly morphing patterns that say more about the state he's in than anything else.

Steve has had six months to learn Danny, to _trust_ him and sow the seeds of something that has yet to bloom into _more_ , and he knows what it looks like when his friend's ironclad control is starting to tatter. Danny doesn't shift nearly as often as Kono; not nearly as often as he should, from what Rachel admitted to Steve after he approached her with his concerns. He's spent several afternoons with Grace in the last few months, but not as many as he needs in order to maintain the appropriate balance between his human body and his Shift’s instincts. From what he's told Steve they're mostly one in the same, but his Shift feels them stronger and it can bleed through in bad ways if he denies it for too long.

It's a wonder he was as controlled as he was when he met Steve; according to Rachel, he hadn't shifted for nearly a year by that point. Not since his last run with Grace before they moved away from New Jersey. Steve has never once tried to spy on his partner's days with Grace; he wouldn't do that to Danny, no matter how much he burns with curiosity over that side of his friend. It's taken a lot of reconciliation and hours of talking, of tearing down fortified walls with Danny at his side for Steve to come as far as he has. It hasn't been easy by any means, reconditioning himself to see Shifters as non-threatening unless they give him a reason to think otherwise, but every blinding smile Danny has given him with each breakthrough has made Steve’s heart feel a little lighter each time. He wouldn't have come anywhere close to where he is now without the blonde man's patience and friendship. Steve isn't about to let him do something he knows Danny will regret once his emotions aren't so volatile.

“Danny,” he says soothingly, giving Kono a reassuring nod behind the Shifter’s back when he sees her hovering uncertainly by her office door, “breathe. I need you to breathe, okay? This guy was snooping around; what made you grab him?”

“His scent is all over the house,” Danny growls. His lips are pulled back, his canines thick and sharp; Steve can see his claws growing and retracting as his anger roils through him. If he was still an active SEAL agent, Steve would already have gone for his knives. They'd currently be rolling across the ground, snarling and lashing out to kill. But that was then, back when his mind was still dark and his rage was an uncontrollable monster laying heavily in his chest. Now Steve follows Danny into the room and closes the door behind them. He puts a steadying hand on the Shifter's chest and catches his eye, holding his furious gaze until bright blue irises glare back at him.

“Breathe,” he urges, low and soothing. “He won't be of any use if you rip his throat out now.” The man squeaks in terror. Danny grins at the sound and it's more savage than usual, his teeth still too sharp to be anything but threatening. _Yeah_ , Steve decides grimly, _he's having a bad day._

“We'll talk about this later,” he warns before he shoves their suspect down into the single metal chair in the middle of the room. Looming over him, he crosses his arms and glares at the trembling man while Danny paces restlessly around the room.

“Who are you?”

“J-Jack Gordon,” the terrified man stammers. He keeps his wide eyes on Danny's prowling form, sweat glistening on his face.

“Shannon’s boss.” Steve nods and steps closer, aware of Danny deliberately stepping back to stand by the door and breathe now that he's not struggling with an uncooperative suspect. “What were you doing poking around an active crime scene?”

“I loved her! I wanted to know what happened!”

“Oh, yeah, I've heard about your declarations of _love_.” Grabbing the arms of the chair, Steve puts his face right in front of Gordon’s and bares his teeth. “She kept telling you no and you didn't like that, huh? You finally get fed up? Decide that if you can't have her, no one can? That why you killed her?” He's almost shouting by the end of his tirade. He plays their bad cop well, and usually Chin or Danny play the good cop and pull him back before trying a gentler approach.

That isn't the case today.

“I swear I didn't kill her!”

He hears Danny's shoes scuff too loudly in the sudden silence and it’s instinct to turn and catch him when he leaps. He grunts at the sudden weight that slams against him, almost two hundred pounds of furious Shifter writhing against him as Danny tries to shove past and get to Gordon.

“Liar!” he howls, his voice deep and rough until the word is more of a rumbling, inarticulate noise of fury. Steve is shocked into stillness for a moment and it almost costs him. He's never seen Danny this angry; for all the rants and the angry gestures, Danny has never sounded like this before. Like he's holding back his Shift by a thread, his emotions and instincts overwhelming his rational mind until there's almost nothing human left. Steve forces them back, away from Gordon, pushing Danny against the wall and feeling his jerk when his back meets the cold concrete. The Shifter grunts against his throat, his teeth inches from Steve’s jugular, but he doesn't feel threatened. There's no immediate urge to kill; he feels the need to _protect._

“Danny,” he whispers, his nose brushing the shell of a warm ear. “Hey, man, what's up with you today? Come on, Danno, this isn't you.”

He keeps talking without really thinking about what he's saying. He rambles quietly, his breath warming the air between them until the tight, trembling body pressed against his start to unwind in increments. Danny's head rests against his shoulder and he cups the back of his friend's head, rubbing soothing circles through the soft strands that didn't get gelled into place. Arms wrap around his chest and drag him impossibly closer until not even a piece of paper can fit between them and Steve moves willingly, ignoring Gordon’s presence entirely as he brings Danny back until his shredded control is more or less intact for the moment.

Steve doesn't think about what they look like, wrapped around each other in a chilly corner of the interrogation room. He doesn't care who walks through the door and sees them. All he cares about is Danny finally lifting his head and giving him a weak, strained smile that is still warmer than the brightest Hawaii sun.

“Hey there,” he murmurs, his voice a little rough but so refreshing that Steve grins widely.

“What have we learned?” he sing-songs playfully. Danny scowls and digs his elbows in on either side of Steve’s spine until he curses and smacks the back of the Shifter’s head gently.

“That's the thanks I get? I thought you loved me.”

“Babe, I cannot _stand_ you.” Danny rolls his eyes and pushes him away gently, reluctantly, like he's not quite ready to lose Steve’s closeness. He feels the same, his stomach fluttering with promise and his heart beating a rapid tempo against his ribcage. He hears Danny inhale and sees his nostrils flare; watches his pupils dilate and thinks _this is it_ with giddy anticipation. He feels like they're on the brink of something _monumental_ , something they've been building up to for far too long already, and Steve can be patient but Danny makes him feel _alive_ and he doesn't want to wait anymore. They've done this dance for long enough.

And then he ruins it. “Can you step out and go get a drink. For me?” He immediately hates himself for it; he doesn't want to send Danny that far away, but Gordon is starting to fuss again and Steve has to make a choice. He has to be _responsible_. He's their leader, it's up to him to make the tough calls, and while that usually involves a firefight and not _this_ , he can't help but feel the same kick of adrenaline when Danny pushes him back a few more steps.

“I could use a coffee right about now,” his partner murmurs with a rueful twitch of his lips that doesn't quite make it to a smile. Steve feels a pulse of distress – he's _ruined_ it – but Danny knocks their foreheads together gently and huffs at him before he can tear himself apart.

“Enough with the tortured puppy eyes, McGarrett. It's just a _coffee_. I'm not gonna run away with it. I'll be right outside once you're done with your whole ‘I'm a SuperSEAL’ shtick.”

“Danny,” he mutters, curling his fingers around the blonde's sides and yanking him into a crushing hug. Danny hisses in pain and surprise but hugs him back hard enough that Steve feels a few of his vertebrae pop.

“Not leavin’, babe,” Danny whispers against his cheek. “Seriously, you octopus, it's just _coffee_. I'm not going to bail out the closest window like _some_ people we know.”

“He had a machine gun,” Steve grumbles petulantly. “I was out of ammo.”

“That's what you get for losing your extra clip and not aiming during a firefight.”

“Can I go now?” Jack Gordon complains quietly. “If you don't have anything else, I'd rather give you two some privacy.”

“You stay right there,” Danny growls just as the door swings open and Chin walks in. Bless him, he doesn't so much as lift an eyebrow when he sees them. He gives Steve a nod, fondness glinting in his eyes before he blinks and it's gone. He's icy and lethal when he turns to Jack Gordon and looks at the tablet cradled in his hands.

“According to this, our coroner scraped a small amount of blood and flesh from beneath Shannon Collins’ fingernails. We'd like to ask for a sample of your DNA, just to rule you out as a suspect. Then you're free to go.” His grin makes Steve think of a shark that's just scented blood, nothing friendly about it, and Gordon pales alarmingly before he starts babbling out his reasons and excuses. Rather than staying to listen – red is already creeping across his vision at Gordon’s desperate pleas for understanding – Steve nods to Chin and guides Danny from the room with a hand in the middle of his back, leaving his lieutenant to take down their killer's confession.

Kono meets them in the common area, grinning when she sees how close they're standing. “Just got off the phone with Kawika,” she announces cheerfully, like a man isn’t confessing to murdering the woman he claimed to love in the next room. Only Kono.

Danny frowns as he heads toward their coffee machine, the absence of his warmth at Steve’s side making him want to follow before he stops himself and focuses on Kono. “Everything okay?” It's not often that they get a call from the head of the Kapu, although relations between them have been considerably warmer in recent weeks. They've offered to lend a hand now and then if their help is needed, and Steve has offered them the same in return. They share the island, they all want to keep it safe, and as Steve has warmed up to Shifters more and more with Danny’s help, the Kapu Shifters have been more welcoming whenever their paths have crossed.

“Yup!” Kono hops up to sit on an empty desk, safely out of range of their main computer. She swings her feet back and forth like she's too excited to keep still, and when Steve gives her a pointed look she grins even wider. “He said they're having a big peace run tonight; all Shifts are welcome. He asked us to come.” She looks at Danny and Steve sees the way his shoulders tense subtly. His back is to them while he pours his coffee so they can't see his face, but Steve knows what expression must be there; the wariness and frustration, his brows pulled in and heavy with the excuses he's building on his tongue for why he can't make it.

Steve doesn't give him the chance to voice any of them.

“I guess you're both going, then.”

“No,” Danny says instantly, shaking his head and holding his mug of coffee like he can't decide if he wants to drink it or throw it at Steve as a distraction. “I can't.”

“Sure you can,” Steve retorts cheerfully even as a small, secret part of his chest hurts. It's the spot where everything having to do with Danny has taken up residence, slowly encroaching a little more every day until Steve knows he's going to wake up one morning and find that the Shifter has filled his entire soul. He wants more than anything to see his friend's Shift. He wants to meet this last, private part of Danny so that there can be no more secrets between them. He wants to know Danny as intimately, as _completely_ , as Danny knows him; all of their fears and scars laid bare and soothed until none of the old hurts matter anymore because there's someone there to keep them from drowning.

Danny gives him a narrow-eyed glare. “I'm busy.”

Steve answering smile is wide enough to show his teeth. “You're really not,” he points out mildly. “Rachel and Grace are having a movie night. You had no plans other than pizza and beer.”

“That qualifies as busy,” his partner grinds out. Steve knows he's not angry; irritated, yes, but he's not gesturing or trying to evade the conversation all together.

“It's gonna be so much fun though, Danny,” Kono wheedles. She slides off the table and claps her palms together, intertwining her fingers like she's getting ready to pray and looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “We can go off and just hang out together after the bonfire. It's a peace run, brah. The only rule is no fighting. If we don't want to stay with a group, we don't have to.”

“Oh, there's a bonfire?” Danny shoots him an unimpressed look and waves toward Kono. “Did you hear that, Steven? There's a bonfire. Will you be roasting marshmallows and singing Kumbaya with us?”

“Peace runs on Kapu lands are Shifter-only events,” Steve replies with an easy shrug. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, watching Danny brace his hip against the counter behind him and glare at nothing in particular. “I'm welcome any other time, same as Chin, but not on those nights.”

“What's the point of it?” Danny grumbles. Kono is quick to jump on the explanation before Steve can, so he chews the inside of his lip and tries not to broadcast his disappointment too loudly. He'd love to run with Danny and Kono; he wants to see their Shifts interact, he wants to know why Danny tries so hard to hide himself from them. He's got nothing to be ashamed of – and frankly, he doesn't strike Steve as the type. Danny is proud of his heritage. He's never once shown an ounce of shame about his Shifter bloodline, until it comes to the matter of what his Shift _is_. In six months, Steve has not once been able to pry it out of him. And now a bunch of strangers get to see it, they get to see _him_ , and Steve is left wondering yet again.

“We're _o’hana_ , brah,” their rookie says with a sunny smile. “No matter size or Shift, we're kin. This is a way for us to come together and just have fun; kind of like a big party with the added bonus of spending the night shifted. Think of how awesome you'll feel tomorrow after all that running!”

Danny is not so easily swayed. “Who says I don't feel awesome _now_?”

“Dude,” Kono snorts. “You almost put that guy, Gordon’s, head through the front door. You broke the _wall_. You are the opposite of chill right now.”

“Danny,” Steve says softly, getting those bright blue eyes fixated on him and smiling. “It's a night of peace and fun. The Kapu have an enormous territory; think of all that _room_. You could spend all night running, like Kono said.” When Danny opens his mouth, looking ready to argue more, Steve plays dirty. He pushes away from the wall and approaches his partner slowly, his hands up, until they're close enough for him to feel the heat rolling off Danny and taste ozone on his tongue. He ducks his head and bites his lip, trying to look as hopeful and imploring as he can. “You _need_ this,” he stresses quietly. “You need to run, Danny. There's been a lot happening lately and no time to relax around it.”

 _That_ is a massive understatement, considering everything they've learned about Wo Fat and finding out that Victor Hesse didn't actually die after Steve _shot_ him. Between just those two cases and everything else – like Danny being _poisoned_ , **_fuck_** , Steve never wants them to go through that terror again – it's been several months of non-stop calls and fights. Maybe, if some of those things hadn't happened, Danny wouldn't be having so much trouble with his control. Some of it is Steve’s fault and he knows it, he’ll take full responsibility even if the Shifter will deny it on pain of death. He just wants to know that Danny is okay; he can suffer through a lot of things just so long as Danny is happy.

“We need downtime. _You_ need downtime.” Cupping the nape of his neck, Steve pulls Danny in until their foreheads are pressed together. “Please?”

“What about you?” Danny whispers. His breath is bitter from coffee but still so warm when it brushes against Steve’s nose and cheeks. “How's this fair to you?”

“If you really think you need to make it up to me, we can go running afterwards,” Steve suggests. “I can show you where my dad and I used to go hiking all the time.”

Danny doesn't look convinced, but Steve is not letting him get out of this. “I'll drive you guys out there and pick you up tomorrow, how's that sound? Big breakfast, lots of coffee; if you want, you can nap while I swing around and drop Kono off.”

“I can catch a ride back with Kawika so that you guys can go right out,” Kono offers. “Come on, Danny. You know how the Kapu feel about outsiders. If they've invited you it's a _good_ thing.”

“Or they're going to murder me and bury my body where it'll never be found,” Danny mutters against the rim of his mug. Steve snorts at him.

“Now you're just being overdramatic.”

The Shifter chooses not to comment, sipping his coffee with his eyes closed even though Steve knows he can feel them staring at him. Kono sneaks closer and leans in, bringing the scent of the ocean and flowers with her. They don't look at each other, too intent on staring their packmate down until, after five minutes of weighted silence, Danny finally caves.

“Oh my god, _fine_!” he snaps, throwing his free hand up in defeat and almost smacking Steve across his face. Kono makes a triumphant noise and bounds toward her office - probably to call Kawika and tell him that she and Danny will definitely be at the run; and to hopefully ask for a ride home, if she remembers her manners amidst her excitement.

“You'll have fun, Danno,” Steve promises quietly, loud enough for them and no one else; not that there's anyone to hear right now anyway. He comes just a little closer and ducks his head to catch his partner's eyes, smiling shyly when Danny levels him with a flat, unimpressed look. It’s enough to make him hesitate for a moment, to ask, “Why don't you want to go?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Danny bites out unhappily. His eyes are shining when he looks away, his empty mug still raised between them like a barrier and his knuckles white around the handle. Steve aches to reach out and soothe away the Shifter's distress. His fingers twitch at the thought and he sways closer because he can't help himself. He's drawn to Danny and the taste of lightning on his tongue that once filled him with revulsion. He welcomes the crackling air that surrounds the man and the way it makes his skin buzz; fills his lungs with it greedily and revels in Danny's natural musk and the spicy scent of his cologne. His partner has adapted so well to Hawaii, those ridiculous ties a thing of the past and his shirts finally more fitting for the weather. He's still so full of sass and life, a New Jersey native thrown right into the heart of Steve’s home and taking it by storm. He's loud and abrasive but it's how he shows he cares. Steve has learned from experience what Danny is like when he's truly angry, the way he'll go ice cold and silent before he erupts. It's how he knows that the Shifter isn't angry at them right now, but something is eating at him and all Steve wants is to figure it out and _fix_ it so that Danny smiles again and means it.

“You don't want to shift?” he guesses, and the way his friend’s eyelids flutter is more telling than he probably intends. “You know you need to, Danno. It's been too long.”

“You have been pestering me for months about this, Steven. _Months_.” Danny sets his mug down and drags his hand across his face with a sigh. “And now here's this opportunity for me to shift, practically an engraved invitation, and you can't even _be there_ for it. That is not fair to you.”

Danny's frustration on Steve’s behalf shouldn't be as touching as it is. He's upset for _Steve_ , because he can't come to the run and see for himself. Love unfurls like a hibiscus flower in Steve’s chest – a feeling he's recognized and accepted for a while now even if he's been content not to push it.

Loving Danny isn't some startling realization that blindsides him from nowhere. It doesn't make him want to pull back and run away; the McGarrett men are not cowards, and Steve isn't allergic to emotions. He's not afraid to love Danny, but he is afraid of pushing Danny away. He’s been growing into this for months now and he knows he’s not alone in his feelings, but Steve isn’t the only one with issues and hang-ups. Danny has them too, he just doesn’t talk about them as often. In the six motnhs they’ve known each other, it’s been more about helping Steve get past his Issues and getting Danny used to living in Hawaii when he never wanted to leave New Jersey. Now they’re at a pivotal moment, standing at the brink of something that will change _everything_ , and Steve is starting to think he should have pushed a little harder so that they could plunge over the edge together.

“If you’re that worried about it, show me after,” he suggests. “We’re going out into the middle of nowhere. It’s not like anyone else will be there.” It really is just that easy, and Danny stares at him like he doesn’t believe it could be before a slow, warm smile lights up his face.

“You are not human,” he huffs, shaking his head before chuckling. He’s suddenly closer, their chests pressed together, and before Steve can say something he feels a strong, calloused palm cup the back of his neck and pull him forward. He thinks they’re about to kiss and his breath hitches eagerly, something that Danny doesn’t miss – couldn’t miss, considering how close they are. Heat flashes through his eyes, something hungry that calls to the answering hunger growling in Steve’s chest, but they don’t kiss. Danny knocks their foreheads together gently, nuzzling against the line of Steve’s nose and rumbling quietly from deep in his chest.

“It’s a date, babe,” he breathes. Steve shudders at the hot breath that tickles across his lips; Danny inhales in response and lets it back out on a groan. “Fuck, McGarrett, you always smell so good.”

“I could say the same about you,” Steve retorts as his hands come to rest against Danny’s sides, just above his hips. “Except that you frequently smell like gunpowder and macho aggression, and those don’t smell that good.”

“I smell li- _I_ smell like gunpowder and Alpha-male bullshit?” Danny sputters. He pushes Steve back and points a figner in his face, trying to glare and not quite managing to dampen his smile. “Do not even start with me, _Steven_. If anyone smells like charred things and, and _testosterone_ , it’s definitely you!”

“Aw, so you did notice,” he teases, and Danny makes an inarticulate noise of anger before shoving him away and stalking past. Their shoulders knock together but it’s a light bump, more of an affectionate rub than anything; like Danny has a feline Shift instead of a canine.

“I’m going to go arrest Gordon, now. Chin should be done terrifying him and getting his confession, since he seems to be the only one around here who _works_ besides me.”

Laughing, Steve catches his arm before he can get too far and squeezes gently, waiting for Danny to turn around and look at him. “Alright, then. Book him, Danno.”

“I hate you,” Danny announces, but his face lights up and Steve can’t help but think, _no, you really don’t._ And that feeling is entirely mutual.

 

\--

 

True to his word, Steve is back early the next morning with the biggest tumbler he has filled to the brim with coffee and breakfast packed in Tupperware containers sitting in the back seat. He parks his truck and looks out into the field that stretches toward the nearby forest, thinking back to last night and watching Danny walk away from him with Kono, his shoulders tense but his head held high. Kawika had met them, the boar Shift only recognizable because he’d worn the Kapu’s necklace. He’d led them away and Kono had been eager to follow; Danny had looked back at Steve and held his gaze for a long moment before nodding and walking away.

He hopes they had fun. He hopes Danny took their advice and shifted just for a few hours so he could run and stretch his legs and work out the emotions that have been slowly gutting him. Steve hates it when his team is in duress, especially if it’s of their own making. To see Danny struggling so clearly between what he wants and what he _needs_ breaks his heart damn near every day. He wants his packmate to be happy. He wants to be the one to make him happy, but until Danny drops that last line of defense and _lets_ him, all Steve can do is hover and worry and fall further in love with his stubborn partner.

The sun hasn’t quite made it past the horizon, but Steve climbs out of his truck and leans against the hood, propping his hip against the warm metal and scanning the field for any flicker of movement. It feels like déjà vu, although last night the sun had just been starting to set when half of his team had vanished onto Kapu lands for the run, and now it’s only just risen. For all he knows, Danny won’t come back for another hour or two at least, but that’s okay. Steve can be patient.

He’s been patient for the past four months; he can wait a few more hours.

In the end, Danny almost manages to sneak up on him anyway. The only reason Steve sees him at the last second is because he catches a flash of teal in the corner of his eye and turns his head to check it out. That’s when he realizes that Danny is already almost across the field, picking his way easily through the tall grasses with his clothes bundled under his arm. He’s wearing a pair of loose linen shorts – probably borrowed from one of the Kapu – and no shirt; the paint across his chest is what had caught Steve’s attention.

“You look well rested,” he calls once Danny is close enough to hear him. He would have heard him even if Steve had called out while he was by the forest, but the morning feels sacred and serene around them and Steve doesn’t want to ruin it. It’s just them and the wilds right now, no other Shifts in sight, and Steve drinks in the sight of Danny once he can properly appreciate it.

Someone has painted _maluhia_ across his partner’s chest in teal-colored paint. Some of it has run from sweat, tracking lighter trails through the mud on his chest and caking the rest in his thick chest hair. Steve’s eyes wander before he can stop himself, taking in Danny’s physique and licking his lips unconsciously. Though he’s short, Danny is stocky and broad, powerful muscles rippling under his tan skin. There isn’t an ounce of fat on his bones that doesn’t have a purpose; Steve knows for a fact that getting tackled by Danny is like being slammed into by a miniature mountain. He’s immovable when he needs to be and _unstoppable_ when he has to be. He’s his own force of nature, wild and beautiful for all that he plays at culture and refinement, and when Steve finally manages to drag his eyes up from the mud streaked across Danny’s hips he finds himself pinned by dark golden eyes and a smile that’s sharper than usual.

“So do you,” Danny grunts. His voice is hoarse, either from being shifted for so long or from yelling. Steve knows that the Kapu can be a rowdy bunch, laughing and shouting and making sure all of their _o’hana_ enjoys themselves when they gather. It’s easy to get swept away in all of it, and he wonders if Danny was no different.

“I’ve got breakfast,” he says so that he doesn’t ask; he’s burning with questions but he wants Danny to eat first. Kawika probably made sure they were all fed more than adequately, but shifting takes energy and it burns a hell of a lot of calories. Even if Danny ate recently, he’s probably more than ready to eat again. “I brought you some spare clothes, too.”

“I love you,” Danny groans. “These got trampled on last night, and I figured if we’re going hiking that they wouldn’t do me any good.” He squeezes his rolled-up clothes for emphasis and Steve jerks a thumb at the truck.

“Toss ‘em in the back. Your clothes are on the passenger’s seat. Food’s in the back and coffee’s in the thermos.”

Danny outright moans this time. “ _Marry me_.”

“I thought we were already married. At least, we are according to a lot of people.” Steve laughs and swings around to climb back behind the wheel. Danny chucks his ruined clothes in the back and climbs into the passenger’s seat. He sits on his fresh clothes and reaches back to grab the biggest Tupperware container of protein scramble. The Shifter doesn’t even bother with silverware, just pops the lid off and inhales greedily before he starts shoveling the food into his mouth with his dirt-crusted fingers.

“I take it you had fun,” Steve guesses after he’s started the truck. Before they pull away, he glances toward the forest one last time and sees a boar standing there. He can see something white around its throat, so he lifts his hand and waves and watches it vanish back amongst the shadows of the trees. “How long did you shift for?”

“Total of seven hours.” Danny barely pauses between mouthfuls; he only stops when the bowl is empty and licks his fingers clean like he doesn’t care that he’s getting dirt as well as grease. When he finally looks at Steve, his slick lips quirk into a crooked, rueful grin. “According to Kono, my Shift is ‘seriously sick’ and I am a grade-A jackass for hiding it for so long.”

“I can vouch for part of that sentiment,” Steve agrees with a somber nod. Danny huffs at him and goes back for another bowl; Steve made more than enough to feed himself and a hungry Shifter, so there’s plenty to be had. “How do you feel?”

“Like a saint,” Danny admits. He fiddles with the lid and licks his lips before heaving a sigh that seems to fill his whole body; he slumps back against his seat afterward and Steve admires the sweaty line of his throat and the mess of his hair. He sees bits of grass and leaves and wants so badly to pick some of it out, but if he doesn’t pay attention to the road then he’s going to crash and that’s the last thing he wants. Danny is a fucking buffet stretched out beside him and Steve has to remind himself that patience is a virtue and that it will all be worth it in the end. God, he really wants to lick though and Danny is not making it easy for him to control himself.

“Hello to you too, babe,” the Shifter in question snorts. “That a gun in your pocket, or do you just like what you see?”

“Can’t it be both?” Steve quips back with a grin. “So you feel good, yeah? Burned off all that energy?”

“And then some,” Danny agrees. He starts eating again, slower this time, and takes pauses between mouthfuls to tell Steve about it; about running and playing with Kono, and carrying her on his back just because he could once or twice. He talks animatedly about the Kapu Shifters, how some of them were boar and some were cats, and a few were dogs. There were more Shifts there than he’d expected, not all of them Kapu but every single one of them welcomed like family.

“It was… nothing like I’d expected,” he admits quietly. “It was good, Steve. Really good. It’s been a while since I’ve felt that kind of community with other Shifters. Not since we left Jersey.”

“You won’t be shunned here,” Steve says simply. “Maybe for being a _haole_ , but Shifters are more common on the islands than most people realize, and the majority of the Kapu come from Shifter families. Prejudice is just… not welcome, here.”

“For the most part,” Danny mutters, but then he shakes his head. “None of them judged me,” he agrees. “Back home it was different, but I’ve had my reasons for staying separate. You bunch of animals just don’t like to let me keep to them.”

“Pack means everything, and you know it.” Steve shrugs, but the smile he shoots Danny is gentle to take the sting out of his words. “Aside from me and my issues, did any of them ever make you feel unwelcome for having a Shift?”

“Nah, just for bein’ _haole_.” Shaking his head, Danny snorts before finishing off the rest of the scramble waiting for him. He licks his fingers clean again, any pretense of being civilized and above such things washed away by a night of fire and instincts and running. He looks more comfortable with himself than he has in weeks and Steve can’t help but sneak glances every so often. Eventually he nods his head toward his partner’s chest.

“Know what it means?”

Danny nods. “Peace. Kawika painted us all up with it; one of his men got him. It stayed even when we all shifted. I guess to remind us what the night was about, like any of us could forget.”

“Well, with a gathering that size, a reminder can be a good thing,” Steve agrees. “When you have predator and prey Shifts intermingling like that, a reminder keeps everyone in line. Otherwise it might not have ended so well.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Danny mutters. He drinks deeply, making an appreciative noise once the coffee hits his belly and warms him from the inside out. “You make the worst brew,” he grunts. “Jesus, they didn’t teach you to make a good cup of coffee in the army?”

“ _Navy_ ,” Steve corrects; he lost count of how many times they’ve played this game. “And yeah, they did; they taught us how to make a brew that will keep the men awake and alert. Sorry if it’s too strong for your delicate senses, your highness.”

“Asshole,” his friend grumbles at him, and they share a soft laugh before silence blankets the inside of the truck again. It’s a peaceful quiet, settling comfortably over Steve’s shoulders and easing the tension in his spine. He’d been worried that Danny wouldn’t want to come with him once the sun rose; that he’d make some excuse about being tired and ask to just go home and rest. He hasn’t said anything about it yet, quietly finishing off his third bowl of breakfast and drinking half of the coffee despite his complaints before Steve pulls into the gravel lot where tourists and regulars can park before wandering onto the reserve.

“Might want to get dressed, just in case anyone else comes along,” he suggests. Danny grunts but does it, dragging a pair of sweatpants over the shorts and pulling on a white t-shirt without bothering to try and wipe himself down first. There’s already mud smeared across the fabric, something that pleases Steve in frankly ridiculous ways, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just scarfs down his share of breakfast and finishes off the coffee while Danny pulls on socks and ties his sneakers. He’d given them to Steve last night and asked him to bring them back along – a wise decision, considering the state of his clothes.

Once they’re both out of the truck, Steve locks the doors and hides the key before they start stretching. “We’re going up to the painted rocks my father took me to,” he explains. Danny pauses in the act of stretching out his calves and his eyebrows jump up.

“You’re taking me to see graffiti?”

“No, Danny; painted stones. Artwork done by the original people who used to own this land.” Rolling his eyes, Steve bends down to touch his toes and pretends he doesn’t see the admiring look flashed his way when his shorts pull tight against his thighs.

“Graffiti rocks. Your idea of a date is looking at graffiti rocks.” There’s nothing derisive or cruel in his tone; Steve is being teased and he knows it, but he stills plays it up with a disgruntled glare.

“Are you coming or not?”

Danny gestures at the miles and miles of wilderness stretching out on all sides around them. “By all means, babe; lead the way.”

“Try to keep up.” Grinning with his last jibe, Steve turns and jogs up the trail. Danny keeps close, moving easily and with no sign of fatigue considering he spent all night doing something similar. Steve wonders if he slept at all, but there’s no tiredness marring his friend’s features. Danny looks alert and eager, his eyes sweeping over the beautiful landscape as they move further away from the road and the forest starts to press in all around them. It’s a peaceful place, no manmade sounds to disrupt the beauty and nature that surrounds them; just the thump of their footsteps and the huff of their breaths as they wind their way through the grass.

“You know, for a SEAL, I expected a bit more from you.”

That’s all it takes; Steve’s grin is all teeth and challenge. “Like I said, try to keep up.” He breaks into a run before Danny can retort, hitting the treeline and slipping into the stretch of forest that separates them from the open, rolling hills on the other side. Danny ranges out beside him, eating up the distance with long, loping strides and matching Steve’s speed without any struggle. They move as a team, weaving amongst the branches in sync and never losing sight of each other. When Danny leaps over a downed tree, Steve is only a beat behind him. His muscles coil and release, his leap carrying him easily, and he lands without missing a step and keeps going. When he finds a cluster of boulders, he jumps from face to face, climbing and tumbling like he’s practicing parkour and listening to Danny’s excited pants as the Shifter jumps and claws his way over them without losing his footing.

They spend more time playing amongst the trees than Steve had planned, but running with Danny like this is more than he’d expected it to be. It’s passion and instinct and a connection he can’t find with anyone else; twining around each other as they sprint like there’s a line of silent communication. They rely on body language and the world around them, listening to the wind through the leaves and watching for the slightest shift from each other to determine where they’re going next.

When they finally come out on the other side, Steve’s lungs are burning but he’s smiling so wide it hurts his face. The land in front of them is a sprawling field that rolls up the side of a hill he remembers well despite the fact that he hasn’t been here in years. At the top of that hill, they’ll be able to see the whole valley. It’s a sight that never failed to take his breath away when he was younger; he wants to share it with Danny.

“You are insane,” his partner wheezes once they’ve made it to the top. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath while Steve looks around and loses himself in the awe-inspiring view that surrounds them.

“Just… just look around you, Danny,” he murmurs, and the Shifter stands up to do so. Steve watches his reaction with pride and so much love his chest bursts with it; the way Danny’s eyes slowly widen and his mouth drops open as he turns in slow circles and takes in the wild land around them. His shirt is sticking to his chest from sweat, his hair is plastered against his forehead and ears, and Steve steps closer while the man is still mesmerized.

Danny doesn’t realize what’s happening until Steve leans over and kisses him, dropping his pack and forgetting about it as he crowds into Danny’s space. It seems like the most natural thing to cup the side of the Shifter’s neck and pull him closer; to drink in the joy on his face until Steve’s eyes flutter closed and their lips meet for the first time. It’s just a light brush but it strikes him like electricity, makes his lips buzz when Danny gasps, and then they’re surging together. There are hands in his hair and his hands are around Danny’s waist and gripping his nape; hot breaths and greedy noises and the taste of lightning on his tongue. Danny’s rumble is like thunder, the perfect storm clashing as they kiss until Steve is dizzy from it. He rears back with an animalistic noise, something low and fierce that Danny echoes when he chases him. They crash together again like the waves that beat against O’ahu’s shorelines, a tsunami of emotions rising and breaking against each other like the tide. They drown in one another, their lips scraping and bruising until Steve’s feel swollen and sore from the force they create. He licks at Danny’s mouth, licks _in_ and maps out every part, and Danny forces him back out to learn Steve as well. A sharp canine catches against his upper lip and Steve tastes a droplet of blood that bursts across his tongue. The sound Danny makes is _wounded_ and he tries to jerk back, pull away completely, but Steve won’t let him. They’ve been making their way toward this for too long; they’ve danced and they’ve evaded and they’ve only managed to fall into each other further. The last thing he wants is for Danny to think he has to be _careful_. Steve was a SEAL, he can handle a little roughness. He _craves_ it, and he knows Danny will give just as good as he gets.

It's _exciting._

“Don’t,” he growls, low and almost savage. He bites at the Shifter’s lip in retaliation and tugs, reveling in the snarl that bursts against his chin, and then Danny’s claws are scraping down the back of his head and he’s shivering through a whine at the bolts of pleasure that arc down his spine. “Fuck, _Danny_ ,” he chokes out, ducking back in for another kiss, and Danny makes a broken, desperate noise into his mouth; a pleading keen as he fists his hands in Steve’s shirt – tears hole in the fabric and clips the skin underneath with the tips of his claws and it shouldn’t be so fucking incredible but it _is_ and Steve tumbles them to the ground before he’s thought it through.

They hit hard and he rolls, dragging Danny’s smaller body on top of his own and swallowing the shocked, pained grunt the Shifter makes with another kiss. His canine cuts Steve’s lip again, drawing more blood, but it’s the need for fresh oxygen that forces them apart. They pant for breath and stare at one another; Danny’s eyes are a swirling mixture of blue and gold, his pupils dilated and his face flushed. There’s a drop of blood on his lip and Steve leans up to lick it away with a low, pleased growl. Danny’s answering rumble is deep and primal, raising the hairs down Steve’s nape and making him arch. There’s no fear, no uncertainty, no _pause_. He drags Danny down into just one more kiss before nipping at his jaw and nuzzling against the side of his throat. He licks up sweat and dirt and savors the tastes that mingle on his tongue, charged with ozone and sex and something so distinctly _Danny_ that he wants to bite down and never let go.

“This is not a fucking hike,” Danny grumbles against his temple, completely out of the blue, and then suddenly they’re laughing. Steve shoves the Shifter away and rolls to follow him, pinning the man beneath his bigger body and laughing so hard his face hurts. Danny is laughing too, sprawled in the grass and looking thoroughly ravaged after just a few kisses. He looks so comfortable, so at home out in the wilderness of O’ahu, that Steve can’t ever imagine him being happy in a place like New Jersey. Someone like Danny doesn’t belong there, caged in by steel and glass and constantly breathing in exhaust and smoke. He belongs _here_ , with Steve; two entirely different creatures that are somehow exactly the same.

“Sure it is,” he rasps once their laughter has dwindled to the occasional chuckle. There’s a streak of mud smeared across his partner’s face that he wipes away with his thumb, smiling gently when Danny’s eyes crinkle at the corners and he turns his head into the touch; nuzzling Steve’s wrist and licking across the tendons like it’s something he does every day.

“This is a fucking obstacle course, SuperSEAL. A hike is a mile or two of easy terrain; this is not a hike. You seriously came out here with your dad all the time? To look at _graffiti_?”

“Painted stones, Danny. Painted. Stones.”

“Yeah, yeah, painted graffiti rocks. Get up you Neanderthal; show me your magical stones so that we can go home and continue this in a proper bed. There is a stick digging into my ass, okay, it does not feel good. Up, up.” He arches to prove his point, rubbing against Steve in one long sinuous move, and it doesn’t make him want to move at all but he forces himself to anyway. He stands up and offers a hand; drags Danny to his feet and into one more kiss. It’s softer this time, full of sweet promise while the others had been filled with instinct and passion. It’s a pledge and an affirmation all in one, a realization that he hasn’t imagined any of it that Danny reciprocates with gentle pressure and flicks of his tongue.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?” he chuckles against Steve’s lips. One last drag of his tongue and he’s gone, stepping far enough away for the humid air to slip between them. It chases away the scent of them but it can’t steal the taste from Steve’s mouth. He licks his lips and sucks his tongue, enjoying it for as long as he can while he looks around. He contemplates the question while he grabs his pack and slings it back into place, taking a moment to look up at the cloudless sky before grinning.

“I don’t know, Danny. Marry me?” he suggests before he starts jogging again.

“I think we should have an actual date first before we break out the rings, don’t you?” Danny falls into step with him easily, keeping pace as naturally as before and looking around to enjoy the view without interruption this time. “I don’t know, babe, maybe a nice candlelight dinner? Some steaks and cheesecake? I’m a classy guy, I’ve told you this. You gotta wine and dine me first.”

“Which is exactly why we just tongue-fucked each other out in the middle of a forest.”

They bicker cheerfully the rest of the way up the mountain, stealing kisses between insults like they’re teenagers who can’t control their hormones. Steve can’t remember feeling like this even when he was a teenager; there was too much pain and anger after his mother’s death and his father’s descent into – what it seemed at the time – depressive madness.

The rocks are just how he remembers when they finally get there, out of breath but practically vibrating with happiness. He stands back and watches Danny inspect the artwork, listening to his quiet murmurs as his bright eyes dart from symbol to symbol. He looks awed again, stepping back to get a better view as his eyes travel up the rock face to follow the stories painted long before they were even a glimmer in existence. Steve drinks it all in, remembering his father telling him whatever he knew and letting himself sink into the almost magical feel of the area.

“It’s incredible, babe,” Danny finally admits, shaking his head like he almost can’t believe it. “Absolutely incredible.”

“It’s home,” Steve replies simply, shrugging like that’s all there is to it. Danny nods and closes his eyes, tipping his head back and breathing in deeply – only to stiffen. His eyes snap open again and he whips around so quickly he almost loses balance. He’s at the edge of the cliff before Steve can try to steady him, peering over the edge and hissing out a shocked breath before turning to stare at Steve with wide eyes.

“Danny?”

“Body. Male.”

Steve’s there in an instant and he sees for himself; the man is sprawled along a ledge like he fell, or like he was pushed. He sees blood but no movement and shakes his head. “Get my bag, Danny. Quick.”

Beings a SEAL has taught him to be prepared no matter what; he’d brought supplies for plenty of eventualities, everything tucked neatly in his bag under coils of rope and a body harness. He drags them out and starts clipping everything into place while Danny paces and frets.

“I’ve done this before,” he reminds the Shifter with a lopsided grin. “It’ll be fine, Danno. Try your cell; see if you can get any service at all. If not, we’re gonna have to climb higher to find some. Either way, I gotta check it out.” He gives his partner an overexaggerated wink. “Don’t worry so much.”

“I will gut you,” Danny swears, but Steve is already propelling over the edge. It’s like riding a bike; jump, find footing, push off, repeat. He’s down on the ledge in under a minute and checking for a pulse – he’s not surprised when he doesn’t find one.

He is surprised a few minutes later when the branch his rope is wrapped around for support snaps and he tumbles back down, the world spinning and blurry around him and Danny’s shouts ringing in his ears along with white noise. He feels his blood throbbing, dripping wetly from the gash across his forehead and over the edge he’s almost tumbled over. When Steve tries to brace his weight and move toward the cliff face he snarls in pain and cradles his injured arm against his chest. It’s definitely broken, he can feel the bone shifting when he palpates the area, but he can’t focus on that right now. He creeps back from the edge until he feels sun-warmed rocks against his back and finally tilts his throbbing head back to find Danny’s pale, frightened face staring down at him.

“Steve!”

“I’m fine,” he calls up, even though he has no doubt Danny can smell his injures. “You gotta go, Danny; climb and call someone. Chin, Kono, I don’t care. I’ll stay here. Just, throw me my pack, okay?”

“You’re damn right you will!” Danny barks. He finds the pack and drops it down; there’s a heart-stopping moment when Steve doesn’t think he’ll be able to grab it, but he manages. Thank fuck. “So help me god, Steven, if I come back and you’ve done something stupid I really _will_ gut you.”

“I love you too.”

Danny huffs at him before disappearing; Steve hears clothes rustle and the sickening crack of bones, followed by the thump of heavy paws racing away. He knocks his head gently against the rocks, using the pain to keep himself from slipping away and cursing his stupidity. Of all the things that could happen. They would be the ones to find a dead body out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Gritting his teeth, he sets about splinting his arm to give it as much support as possible. Knowing his partner, Danny is going to call for an evac, which means the only way out is for Steve to climb back up. There’s no way in hell a helicopter can get to him where he is now.

It seems like barely any time at all before Danny’s back. Steve hears him calling before his head and shoulders appear over the edge of the cliff again, silver fur rippling across his cheeks; blending back into tan skin and leaving golden eyes filled with worry and fear. “You still alive down there, babe?”

“Alive and kicking,” Steve promises with grim determination. It’s easy to convince Danny to free the rope; it’s harder to convince him that climbing is the only way Steve can get off the ledge. He leaves the body for the medevac team, knowing they’ll be able to handle things better than he currently can. All Steve can do is grit his teeth, compartmentalize to focus on what’s important, and climb.

As soon as he’s up over the edge, Danny drags Steve onto his lap and kisses him so hard he can’t see through the pain and relief. “If you ever do that to me again, Steven McGarrett, I’m throwing your ass in a shark tank with chum and driving the fuck away.”

“Duly noted,” he chuckles weakly before trying to stand up. “Come on, we’ve got to move. They’ll be here soon, and I don’t like the look of the sky.” It had been clear, but now thick clouds are rolling in. He can hear the chopper coming so he knows they’ll beat the storm, but he’s not willing to risk any more time than they have to. “Stay with the body, Danny.”

“No. Fuck no, Steve, how could you even-”

“You have to make sure they do things right,” he stresses. “I’m not dying, babe. It’s a broken arm.”

“And probably a fractured skull!”

“I’ll be fine, I swear.” He kisses the Shifter until Danny grumbles but relents. They make their way quickly to the closest field where the chopper is already hovering, men dropping ropes and sliding down to retrieve Steve and secure the area. He’s clipped into place with a soldier who greets him with a formal nod; protocol and muscle memory has him nodding back before he looks for Danny again. His partner is standing there watching as he’s lifted off the ground, his hands in his pockets and his once-white shirt completely ruined by dirt and grass. When he sees Steve looking, he gives him a grin and mouths _I love you_ ; drawing a large heart and pointing like Steve needs any kind of clarification.

 _I love you so much it hurts to breathe_ , he thinks but doesn’t say. All he can do is grin until his face hurts and hope that’s enough for now. After all, they’ll have plenty of time later to do things properly.

Hell, they’ve got all the time in the world, now.


End file.
